Last weekend saw (literally) a bloody great pipe stuck down my throat and further. Thankfully
only a lifetime of discomfort from a "sliding" hiatus hernia lies ahead of me, rather than
something far more sinister lurking there. I'll show you the pictures sometime. If you ever need
it done get the full sedation ( I didn't) or better still as the nurse said, have it up the other end.
Anyhoo I sprang forward with far more vigour this weekend, as the whole Bureboy bredren descended on Bureboy Villas. Saturday morning saw a few of us decamp to Mundesley, and of course Gold Park via some llamas/alpacas.
I think Alpacas. Llamas to guard alpacas? Who knew. Or is it Fake News?
Heavy reporting restrictions are in force unless I send this by one man's freedom fighter or one man's terrorist's best friend end to end encrypted Whats App so the picture content my be restricted a little.
The Little Un's quite liked these "parachutes"
I quite liked the result of constant pounding by water and aggregate on these wood, iron and concrete defences.
The Peckham Wonder quite like this find. Interweb consensus is that it is too big for a bison bone so may be from one of the the Steppe Mammoth that used to frequent Mundesley High Street a few eons ago. I have been dispatched to the Museum to have it ID'd in case the Interweb is spouting more snowflake pinko liberal Fake News.
The Official Censor has redacted the ice cream huddle but thinks this may be ok.
You'd think the beach would have been rammo. Glad it wasn't.
Off then to the Vernon for a decent lunch and the statutory 1 pint of best bitter beer. Surprisingly the Metropolitan elite had arrived wallet less.
Refreshed and repasted we headed up to the Roman Camp and a brisk trot. If there were some foolhardy adders about they soon scarpered as we made like Steppe Mammoths.
Sunday morning....well, afternoon and after a rather splendid pig out on cold cuts it was off to the very local water for a couple of frankly cold and windy hours on Stage 1 into the new and improved extra hour of light. I hadn't got a bait in the water before being summonsed as Gillie and lens man.
Not bad for a mud pig I grudgingly allow.
I should have left the red maggit at home as I endured a string of rudd and tiny skimmer/hybrids before getting a tangle after unhooking this better roach and sticking by the corn.
Finally the float buried rather than shot away on the drop and my first bream of the year was in the net. Hope for many more of these these this spring and summer. Am looking for a float rod with power that goes through to the butt and can double up for a decent chub trotting rod later on the season.